The gold danced in his eyes
by Skyturtle
Summary: Set after The Battle of Hogwarts. It shows how everyone coped with the loss of fred, especially Ron and Hermione. Ron/Hermione


The house was silent apart from the ticking of the clock sitting on top of the kitchen table, its eight hands unmoving. Mrs Weasly had dropped it the first time she had picked it up when they had gotten back to The Burrow, smashing the glass and wailing at the lack of Fred's hand on the clock. Eight hands had turned into seven.

The curtains were drawn, shrouding the room in darkness. It was the darkest Hermione had ever seen the house, even having stayed there almost every summer since she had began attending Hogwarts. Hermione found the quiet unnerving, particularly in a house that was often filled with people and laughter. Especially since the joint creator of that laughter would never devise jokes again.

Everyone was mourning him, Hermione thought sitting in the dull afternoon light. Mr Weasly had had to return to work yesterday, the day after the battle. Pale faced and still in shock .

Mrs Weasly seemed to be more busy than usual. She never stopped cleaning, cooking, ironing, washing or gardening. Only occasionally would she give begin to cry when she picked up one of Fred and George's trick wands, and someone would find her wailing in the same spot inconsolably ten minutes later, holding a rubber chicken. She made an endless amount of pumpkin pasties, casseroles, cauldron cakes and any thing else she could think of. They had enough food in the house to feed several armies, even though nobody felt like eating.

George had gone to bed and had not come out since, even with Ms Weasly checking on him every ten minutes and Ginny making endless cups of tea that were never drunk.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy had all been coming and going for the last two days, organising the funeral, and dropping in for meals and strained chat with her and Ginny, who still had puffy red eyes from crying constantly. Harry gone out flying early yesterday and had not returned until after the rest of the house was in bed.

Ginny was surprised by his lack of attention for her, especially after what they had been through, but she was willing to give him time. Hermione wondered what it must be like, knowing that the person who murdered your family had finally been done justice and was gone forever. However it felt, Harry seemed to be coping.

But Hermione was really worried about Ron. He had not spoken to her since the kiss, and the chemistry they had had briefly that night seemed to have been sucked out of the air around them, leaving a coldness that hermione couldn't deal with. He seemed distant and vague to every one and had stayed in his room, mostly and even when he ventured out, his talking ceased when Hermione entered, making her blush, and the tips of his ears turn red.

She needed to do something to at least clarify that the way she felt was not returned by him. She had not worked up the courage to talk to him yet. What was she going to say?Slowly, she stood up and walked upstairs. She needed to get it over with now. Halfway up the stair she paused, and peer out a tiny window that looked onto the orchard that Harry was flying above. Ginny had joined him in the air and they were chatting while passing a quaffle to one another. She sighed. At least they weren't having trouble talking.

She climbed to the top floor and padded across the landing. She faltered at Ron's bedroom door. What would she say?

She knocked before opening the door and walking in. Ron was sitting on his bed, with his spine against the wall, staring at his Chudley Cannon posters. She watched his back stiffen as she walked a few steps into the room.

"Hi" She said.

"er...hi, Hermione" He replied as if he had just remember her name, looking at the floor.

There was a moments silence, after which Ron, still not meeting her eyes continued "What do you want?"

"To talk to you"

"er...talk, ok" he muttered.

She sat down on the very corner of the bed and glanced around the messy room.

"When was the last time you cleaned this place?" She asked reproachfully.

"Well..." he replied, shuffling away from her on the bed, so that he was almost pressed against the wall, sitting on his pillow.

At the sight of hime recoiling at her perching on the edge of his bed, something inside Hermione snapped

"Ron, what is wrong with you? When we were in the Malfoy's, while Bellatrix Lestrange tortured me, I could hear you shouting my name and that was about the only thing that kept me conscious! And then in Hogwarts, in the most dangerous place possible, in the middle of a battle with hexes flying everywhere, you kissed me while holding poisonous basilisk fangs! And now everyones been upset and lonely for the past two days and you won't even look at me! I thought you cared about the house elves, I thought you cared about me! I thought you maybe even liked me"

Both Hermione and Ron froze. For the first time in days, Ron looked at her. The full impact of what she had just admitted hit her. She got to her feet and backed towards the door. This had been a stupid idea in the first place.

"Never mind." She muttered "I better go"

Ron stood up too, facing her and said in an almost croaky whisper

"Hermione, I do like you"

Hermione's heart sank. He thought she had meant as a friend. She grabbed the door handle, preparing to escape.

"I meant, as...as more than an acquaintance, Ron"

He crossed the tiny room in the space of two seconds, so he was standing so close to her that she could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes.

"I know"

Hermione gasped, stepped back in shock, and banged her head off the wooden door. She fell forward into Ron's arms as he laughed for the first time in days, staggering backwards and hugging her, with the gold in his eyes dancing.


End file.
